Ghosts
by Deandra
Summary: Eomer must come to terms with a painful event in his past. ONE-SHOT. Part 202 of the Elfwine Chronicles.


_**Part 202 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: I began this back in November, with nothing more than Eothain's opening remark, and it has taken awhile to find the story to go with it. Possibly this could have gone in the Eomer Chronicles, but as Lothiriel is in it, that puts it here instead.**_

**Ghosts**

**(Jun, 1 IV)**

"He is returned," Eothain said quietly, taking a seat across the desk from his king.

"Who?" Eomer questioned disinterestedly, not looking up from the missive that occupied his attention.

"Cuthburg."

Eomer's head jerked up, and he stared hard at his friend. After several moments of silence, he asked tautly, "Where has he been?"

"I did not speak with him. I saw him going into an ale house in the lower part of town, not far from the gate. He is older, and walks with a limp, but it was him."

The king leaned back in his chair, staring into the air around him, lost in thought. He idly fingered the forgotten letter he still held in his hands, unaware of what he was doing. Eothain remained silent, watching him, and waiting to see what he would do or say further.

"Does he know I am king now?" Eomer asked at length, turning his gaze toward the drawer where Eothain knew he kept his crown when not in use.

"If he does not yet, it will surely not take long. I hear your name spoken often enough in the streets that he could not avoid it." He paused, then ventured, "Eomer, perhaps–"

"Do not say it." Eomer cut him off, guessing what was coming, and Eothain suppressed a sigh. Even after these many years, apparently nothing had changed, despite everything that had taken place in the interim.

"That is all I had to report," Eothain said, pushing to his feet. "Do you have other need of me?"

It took a moment for Eomer to register the question and respond. "Oh, no, you may go."

Clearly the news Eothain brought had unsettled his king, but it could not be helped. Sooner or later they probably would have met – probably should meet and talk about the past. Better that Eomer be prepared for that possibility.

With a slight bow, he moved out the door, closing it behind him. He stood a moment in the hall, giving another sigh. It was not that he didn't understand how Eomer felt, or was unsympathetic, but this had weighed on Eomer too long. It should be put to rest. Sometimes things just happened and it was no one's fault.

xx

"Eomer?" Lothiriel said a second time when he did not respond.

"What?" He looked up, blinking in confusion. "Did you say something?"

"What troubles you, my love?" she asked, going to sit beside him on the bed. "You have been preoccupied with your thoughts all evening." Her hand stroked his head.

"I…I do not wish to discuss it," he replied, rising abruptly, surprising his wife with his manner.

"Very well," she answered, standing also. "But I am here and willing to listen if you should change your mind." She slipped her arms around him and without thought he drew her into an embrace. If she wondered at how tightly he held her, as though fearful something would happen if he let go, she did not ask about it.

When Lothiriel arose the next morning, Eomer was already gone from their bed, and she gazed pensively at his place beside her. He had not slept well, though she had not let him know that she was aware of his restlessness in the night.

Rising, she dressed quickly and went to the Hall in search of Gamling. Perhaps he could shed some light on what troubled Eomer. He had been fine yesterday morning and at the noon meal, so something must have happened later in the afternoon to upset him.

Her questions bore no fruit, however. "I am sorry, my lady. I do not know what troubles him," Gamling said with an apologetic shrug.

"Very well," she replied, turning away in disappointment.

"My lady…" She paused and glanced back at the Doorward. "I do not know if it is of consequence, but I believe Eomer became distressed after a visit from Eothain. Perhaps he knows something of the matter."

"Thank you, Gamling," she said, smiling with relief at another possible source of information. "I will go to see him now."

Eothain was not at the guard hut when she arrived, so Lothiriel left word for him to come see her when he returned. It was nearly an hour later before he appeared in the Hall, a questioning look on his face. In silence, she gestured for him to follow her and led him to her sitting room.

Cautiously he took a seat at her direction, suspecting the reason for this summons. Surely the early morning ride along the Snowbourne for the past hour with Eomer was connected in some way.

"Gamling tells me that he believes Eomer was distressed by some news that you brought to him yesterday," she announced without preamble. "Is that so?"

He might have wished her to be less blunt, allowing him more room to not disclose all that he knew. But he could not lie to her. "Likely that is so," he acknowledged.

"And why is that, if I may ask?" she persisted when he offered nothing more.

"My lady, understand that I do not wish to betray any confidence of Eomer's and if he has not spoken of it to you, I am reluctant to be the one to do so." He gave her a look, pleading for understanding.

"I know," she said more gently, "but I cannot help him if I do not know of the trouble. Is there anything you think you may say?"

Eothain sighed and leaned back in the chair, rubbing a weary hand over his face, then nodded. "Yes, you should know some it. Perhaps you will succeed where I have failed and help him to bury the past."

He paused, gathering his thoughts. "There…there was a girl that Eomer knew in his youth. They were friendly, and possibly it could have been more eventually, though it was not at the time. Like Eowyn, she wished to pursue the arts of the shieldmaiden and, just as with his sister, Eomer opposed it, believing women unsuited to war. He had been in battle by then and seen the ugly face of it. He did not wish that on any whom he cared about.

"Her father also opposed it and, in an effort to turn her determination from it, took his family to reside at Aldburg, where there were fewer soldiers around that might inspire his daughter's ambition. But Breguswith was headstrong, as many of the Rohirrim are, and she would not listen to Eomer or her father's words of dissuasion. One night, only a fortnight after arriving at Aldburg, she snuck out, and set off back to Edoras. Orcs were becoming more numerous and those were dangerous times, especially after nightfall when they were most active. She was captured, tortured and killed."

He fell silent a moment, allowing Lothiriel time to digest this information. Presently, he continued, "Eomer blamed her father for not keeping her safe, for not preventing it in some way. Eventually Cuthburg left Aldburg, and went we knew not where. Neither Eomer nor I have heard anything of him in all these years. I suppose both of us thought him dead by now, but yesterday I saw him in Edoras. I thought it best to alert Eomer that he was here. Judging by his reaction, his sentiments toward the man have not changed."

"Thank you," Lothiriel said quietly. "I do not know if there is anything I can do or say that will help in any way, but I will do what I can."

With a nod, Eothain rose, sketching a bow before exiting. Lothiriel remained, pondering the information he had passed on to her. Clearly all this time Eomer had carried his burden of anger and grief, perhaps dimmed by time, but rekindled with fresh mention of the event. Tonight. Tonight she would see if he would talk to her, though she had no idea what she could say that would ease his pain.

xx

The evening meal was largely taken in silence, Eomer preoccupied with his thoughts. Several times, Lothiriel almost broached the subject, but a servant would enter at that moment and she finally decided it was better to wait until they were alone and away from interruptions.

When they retired to their bedchamber, she steeled herself and ventured, "My love, we should talk. I have learned from Eothain what has you so distressed. I want to help if I am able."

"Eothain should have kept silent!" Eomer snarled, angrily tugging his shirt the rest of the way off and throwing it toward the bed.

"Perhaps, but he was worried about you, as am I. Please, my love, talk to me." She cupped his cheek with her hand and turned him to face her. "I do not like to see you consumed with painful thoughts."

Unconsciously, Eomer leaned into her hand, welcoming the compassion there. His jaw tensed as he struggled with roiling emotions. At length, he turned away and walked toward the window and she was unsure if she had been successful, but then he whirled and exclaimed, "It was the eored in which I rode that found her body, torn asunder by those animals when they had finished their sport with her! He should have kept her at Aldburg! He was her father – he should have kept her safe!"

Anger was clearly winning the battle of strongest feeling within him.

Lothiriel bit her lip, but then determinedly replied, "As you should have protected Eowyn from harm on the Pelennor?"

He recoiled as if she had struck him, too astonished by her remark to speak, but she advanced on him, speaking urgently. "Beloved, I do not say that to accuse you of anything or to wound you further. I…I just wish for you to see that sometimes evil things happen, no matter how much we try to prevent them. We cannot keep our loved ones from all harm that might befall them. Despite everything we do, they have their own will and desires, and sometimes they make choices that are not wise, leading them into danger. Perhaps…perhaps he was no more able to prevent her riding off into peril than you were able to prevent Eowyn." She paused, then added, "If he is any kind of father, I am sure he censures himself far more than you ever could for what happened. How would you feel if ill took Elfwine, no matter how careful you tried to be to see that he was safe?"

Eomer stormed past her, but stopped with his hand on the latch of the door, and then his entire frame slumped in defeat. "I should wish to die if I failed to protect my son, or you," he whispered hoarsely. "Nothing anyone could say would make me feel any better, or any worse, than I did." Slowly he turned back, and then came quickly to draw her into his arms, clutching her so tightly she nearly could not draw breath, but she made no protest.

It was a long while before his embrace eased and he drew back. "I…I do not like what you are saying, Thiri, but there is truth in your words. When it happened, I did not think there was any excuse he could make, but now I am not so sure of that. I…I will consider what you have said."

It was not a promise to mend old hurts or make peace with Cuthburg, but it was a beginning. At least it might help Eomer find peace within himself, if nothing else. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips, again caressing his face. "That is all I ask. I only want your memories of her to be fond and not so crushing."

Lothiriel was not surprised when Eomer had another restless night, and was gone before she awoke. Her hand smoothed across the sheets on his side of the bed, hoping today dawned brighter for him.

xx

"My lord! Welcome!" The tavern-keeper bustled toward him. "Would you care for something to drink?"

Eomer paused, but then nodded. "Ale." It was a bit early for drinking, but he needed something to occupy his hands, and suddenly his throat felt very dry.

A swift glance around showed few in the tavern so soon before noon, but there were a couple of men at one table in the furthest corner who eyed him curiously. The only other person sat drinking alone, his back to Eomer. After ten years, certainly Eomer could not recognize the man from behind, if he ever could, but his instinct told him this was who he sought.

Just as the ale was handed to him, a craggy voice called out, "Have you come to imprison me, Eomer, now that it is within your power? Or are you here to kill me, as you always wanted to do? Surely none would question the king taking a life." There was bitterness in his tone, but also a recklessness. Eomer realized that Cuthburg did not much care if Eomer was going to kill him. Perhaps Lothiriel was right; perhaps he felt he deserved death.

"What would imprisonment or death accomplish?" he asked walking closer, and moving around so he could see Cuthburg's face. He almost gasped at the change of ten years. Indeed, it looked more as though a span twice that had passed. He could not think that time alone had so ravaged the man's countenance.

Cuthburg lifted his eyes to stare at Eomer, and almost unwillingly the king found himself searching for answers there. He did not like what he saw – the heavy burden of guilt, far worse even than what he had suffered when he thought he had failed Eowyn. Thiri was right; nothing Eomer could say or do would wound this man any more than he was already hurt.

He drew out a chair and sat down across from Cuthburg, taking a sip of his ale while gathering his thoughts. Finally, with a sigh, he said what he knew must be said, no matter how difficult it was for him. "I was wrong to blame you. You did not deserve that. Only now do I see clearly and realize that Breguswith chose to act as she did, and you would have done anything, even to the giving of your own life, to prevent it."

The man's brow knit with surprise. "You have changed, Eomer," he observed quietly.

"Aye, I have. Long years of war does that to a man. And, I have found a good woman who helps me see my mistakes and correct them if I can."

Cuthburg swallowed some of his ale, spilling a little on the table as he set the mug down with a thump. "A good woman is worth more than gold. Cling to her." Before Eomer could respond to that, he added, "Fegerwif left me, you know. Her grief was too great at the death of her only child. She took sick and died in less than a year."

Eomer let out a ragged breath. "I am sorry for your loss. I always liked Fegerwif. She was very kind to me…as were you."

A tear trickled from Cuthburg's eye, but he paid it no heed. "That was a long time ago."

"Not so long. The War is ended and there is peace in our land. Shall there also be peace between us? I think…I think Breguswith would wish that. She would not like seeing you in such pain. Despite your different view of things, she did love you dearly."

"As I loved her!" Cuthburg gasped, his face dropping on his arms as he wept freely.

Eomer realized that perhaps he had never fully grieved for his daughter until now. Sympathetically, he laid a hand on the man's shoulder and remained silent.

Eventually the emotion subsided, and Cuthburg swiped at his face with embarrassment. After a moment, he sat up and met Eomer's gaze. "You _have_ changed, Eomer King, and perhaps if you do not think me a worthless cur, then I do not need to believe it is so."

Eomer nodded. The tension eased, the men drank in silence.

At length, Eomer asked, "Would…would you care to join me for the midday meal, meet my wife and son?"

Cuthburg favored him with a long look and then smiled. "Yes, I should like that very much."

11/9/12 – 1/20/13

_Cuthburg – "known protector"; Breguswith – "strong protector"; Fegerwif – "pleasant woman"_

_The events described took place about 3009 III, when Eomer was about 18 or 19._

_3002 - Death of Eomer's father Eomund. Soon afterwards, Eomer's mother Theodwyn also dies. _

_3014 - King Theoden begins to fall under the influence of Saruman's agent Grima Wormtongue. _

_3017 - Eomer becomes Third Marshal of the Mark. _

_**End note: **__** It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written.**__** The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content.**_


End file.
